It's You who created the willowy heaven Painted the world we live in seven Roaming bedouins we were before You came Healed the sick and restored the lame Nine-inch nails driven into You on the cross Blood that's shed at no pharisee's remorse No price greater than the cost of salvation A King that died in the hand's of His creation Passion is what spells the Father's love Fitting me into His kingdom taut as a glove
